by Stacey Wilk
She hadn’t heard about any prank. She didn’t even really know if Cash lived with Blaise permanently or only part-time. She should have asked more questions. But he seemed like such a nice kid, especially when he came over to help her get the table unstuck. All kids make mistakes. Maybe she shouldn’t be so quick to judge without knowing all the facts.
Jud stopped and gave Chloe the obvious once-over. He soaked in her legs sticking out of shorts too short and dragged his gaze to her bare shoulder. His smile was wide. “Hey,” he said.
Chloe checked him out too, and Grace could watch no longer. “Chloe, let’s get your bags and the things I bought out of the car. We can store them in the garage until the men are done and we’ve cleaned up some.”
Chloe leaned in to the trunk and grabbed her purple suitcase. “Mom, who is that kid’s father? Is he someone important?” She made sure no one was listening.
“His father is Blaise Savage. He lives next door.”
“Who?”
“Never mind.” When Grace turned around, Jud was standing behind them. She jumped.
Jud took Chloe’s bags from her. “I’m Jud.”
“Chloe.” She tugged on her necklace.
Oh brother.
“Jud, stop all that yacking and get back to work. I want everything cleared out before we leave here today,” Beau yelled from inside the house.
Grace changed her clothes and began helping. Beau had her swinging a sledgehammer against the cabinets. He handed a broom to Chloe.
She threw her hands up. “I don’t want to get dirty.”
Beau shook his head and shoved the broom at her. “You plan on living here, don’t you?”
Cash laughed. “Don’t fight him. He always wins.”
Chloe took the broom with two fingers.
“I didn’t know what I was getting into either.” Jud had dirt in his hair, and his T-shirt was torn at the shoulder. “This place is a mess.”
Only Cash didn’t seem to mind the work. That made the knotted braid of her muscles unwind a little. Beau shouted orders, and they followed, working mostly in silence. Several times he had to tell Jud to stop talking to Chloe, but as the sun set behind the poplar trees, the front rooms had been stripped of all signs of their earlier life. Grace had scrapes up and down her arms, and her muscles screamed from all the work she put them through. She’d hurt tomorrow, but her insides were warm with a sense of accomplishment. She had helped with her bare hands, and she was making something new with this house. Something completely hers.
Up until that point, nothing had been just hers. First, she shared everything with her mother—what her mother had, she usually hoarded—and then she shared everything with Larry. Before long Chloe arrived, and Grace was caught up in the tide of motherhood. She dove headfirst into having someone to love unconditionally, hoping to do a better job than her mother had, but somehow over the years, when she wasn’t looking, her identity had slipped away from her.
That thought drew her gaze next door. If she found herself again, would this new person be more interested in Blaise? There had been no sign of him all day. His truck had been missing, so she assumed something had his attention. Was it a woman?
“Well, Miss Grace, looks like we’re done for the evening. I’ll be back bright and early.” Beau limped down the porch steps. He rubbed his lower back. “Have a good night now, ya hear? Come on, Jud. I’ll give you a ride. You earned that much.”
Jud had circles under his eyes, and his hair was stuck to his head from sweating. He used the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face before he gave a small wave to Grace. He ignored Cash, slid in Beau’s truck, and leaned his head back against the rest. Had that young man ever worked that hard before today? Chloe certainly hadn’t. They’d lost her help an hour ago. She had dragged a folding chair into the backyard and shoved her face into her phone.
Cash stood tall, a smile still on his face. “Good night,” he said and crossed the yard, almost bouncing on his feet.
Grace admired the way he kept his cool around Jud. That couldn’t be easy for anyone. What was the story between those two?
“Beau, before you go.” She had tucked this idea away all day. She didn’t want to think much about it, because the answer could void her ownership, but when she tried to force the thought away, it kept coming back. “Do you know whatever happened to Nancy Templeton?”
A darkness passed over Beau’s blue eyes. He looked away, and when he looked back, his eyes were clear again. “How do you know who Nancy Templeton is?”
“I know she owned this house before me. I was wondering where she went. She clearly hasn’t been living here.”
Beau pulled his keys from his pocket and twirled them. “No idea whatever happened to her.” He headed for his truck but said over his shoulder, “Best leave things alone, Miss Grace. Digging where you don’t belong just brings up dead bones. Now get yourself some food and a good night’s sleep.” He slid into his truck, slammed the door, and kicked over the engine.
He pulled out without a look back, but Grace stood there until his taillights turned the corner. “Dead bones, my backside. You know, old man. You know.”
Chapter Eighteen
The house felt hot and sticky. Although the AC was working hard, the heat had been too much all day and Blaise had forgotten to turn it up when he left. Now he didn’t feel like heating up Savannah’s chicken in the oven. The microwave would have to do. Chewy chicken never hurt anyone.
Cash had said he was starving before he jumped into the shower to wash off a hard day’s work. He wouldn’t care what he ate. He had been smiling when he returned from Grace’s house. Blaise thought for sure it would’ve been a bad day with Jud there or Cash would’ve caved under the heat or the workload, but that didn’t seem to be the case. He was glad. Maybe tonight could be the conversation he’d been putting off.
Was Cash relieved they hadn’t talked about the fire? Or was he wondering why his father hadn’t brought it up? It might be better if he didn’t realize his father was too afraid to bring it up, fearing he’d screw up that conversation the way he’d screwed up so many other things. He wasn’t just a lousy father, he trusted the wrong person with his finances, he married the wrong woman, and he didn’t have the courage to leave his dying band and start a new one. The only thing he had done right was buy his parents’ house.
“Dad, have you seen Grandpa’s lighter?” Cash stood in the kitchen doorway with a smile on his face instead of the permanent scowl. His hair was still wet, and his face was scrubbed clean of that makeup, but he needed a shave. He had shoved one earbud in and left the other dangling over the top of his ear.
“No, and why do you need that old thing anyway?” Was he being overprotective, worrying that his son who set a foundation on fire kept a lighter as a keepsake?
“It’s all I’ve got left from him.”
“We’ll try and find you something else.”
Cash stood at the island. “Paper plates?” He held the plates up in each hand.
“I forgot to run the dishwasher.” He wasn’t used to all the house chores with a kid around. Cash was ten when Melissa packed up their stuff and moved out while Blaise was on tour. She left him a note and a few pieces of furniture. He’d been so angry she took his son he punched a hole in the wall and broke his hand hitting a beam. Acting before thinking. Like always.
“How was demo day?” He spooned chicken and orzo onto paper plates. He handed one to Cash, and they settled in around the table.
“What?”
“Could you take out that earbud, please?”
Cash rolled his eyes but did as he was told.
“I asked you how demo went today.”
“Fine.” Cash shoveled food into his mouth.
Blaise pushed his food around, watching orzo juice soak spots into the paper plates. He opened his mouth, but shut it again. Would it be so bad to have a decent dinner without the tension or arguing that would certainly come up once he said t
he word fire?
“You’re drumming.” Cash picked his head up, fork halfway to his mouth, and stared at Blaise.
“What?”
“You’re drumming your fingers on the table. You do it when you’re thinking about something.”
Blaise stared at his hands, one still in a brace. “I didn’t realize.”
“You never do.” Cash went back to his food.
He didn’t realize Cash paid so much attention. He was right. Blaise did drum his fingers on any surface when he was thinking about something or nothing at all. It filled space in his brain. He was stalling. “Cash, we need to talk.” He pushed his plate away.
Cash looked up at him and dropped his fork. He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. Blaise cleared his throat.
“You’re sending me back, right?”
“What? No. Why would you think that?” Things weren’t perfect, but they were managing. If Cash could notice the constant drumming, why didn’t he notice when Blaise went to talk Beau into giving him a job? Or the food shopping Blaise did every few days because Cash was a human vacuum.
“Uncle Colton got the dates, didn’t he? And now you want to get back on the road, so I have to go back home.” Cash shoved back his chair and started to get up.
“Wait. Sit.” Blaise pointed to the seat, and Cash dropped down. “I don’t want you to go anywhere.” He wasn’t sure what the right thing to say was. He didn’t want to say too much and scare Cash away, and he didn’t want to say too little. “I like having you here with me. Do you like being here?”
He shouldn’t have asked such a dangerous question. What was he going to do when Cash said he didn’t like living with Blaise in the modest home in a small town? He probably didn’t want to go home and do the community service where everyone would see him. And he probably missed the faster-paced life he normally lived with Melissa.
Cash pulled his dish over and stabbed at his food. He kept his eyes on the chicken. “Yeah, I like it here. It’s better than Beverly Crest.”
“It is? Why?” He wished Cash would look at him, but he leaned back and waited for his son to explain.
Cash took a few bites, shrugged. “Back home the other kids only liked me because I’m a Savage.”
“That can’t be true.” It was true for him. He never really knew who liked him for himself and who only wanted to hang around a celebrity. As things for the band started to die out, there were fewer and fewer people around. Blaise couldn’t offer them much any longer, and they were on to the newest piece of meat. Wasn’t that part of the reason Melissa left him?
“Yeah, it’s true.” Cash finally looked up. “I don’t have a lot of friends. Actually, I only had one friend, but that’s changed now too.”
A little pang hit Blaise’s heart. His fingers drummed on his chest. “I’m sure you have more than one friend.”
“No, Dad, I don’t. I’m a loser with no friends. You want to know why?”
He was a little afraid to hear what was coming next. “Sure. Tell me.”
Cash threw his plate in the garbage and leaned against the counter. “I hate fake people. Kids at school would always come up to me and ask me if you or Uncle Colton were my dad, and I’d say yes or he was my uncle or whatever. And then they’d be high-fiving me in the halls and wanting to text me or game with me. At first I thought it was cool I was making friends, but I didn’t realize why.”
“I’m sure a lot of those kids liked you for you.”
“No, they liked me for you. They’d ask if I could get any of your tour stuff so they could sell it. They’d want to know if you knew other musicians they liked and wanted to meet. Or if you had an agent I could hook them up with because they had a band and wanted a record deal.”
“Kids can be cruel.” Blaise moved around the kitchen, cleaning up dinner, hoping Cash would continue.
“Mom never misses a chance to tell someone she was married to you or I’m your son. She likes to get reservations at restaurants no one else can get into. Or tickets to shows or whatever other stupid things she does. I told her to leave me out of it. If she wants to exploit being a Savage, that’s on her.”
Blaise wished Melissa had kept her name-dropping away from their son. “Your mom is a good parent.”
Cash waved his hand in the air. “Yeah, sometimes. I mean, she loves me and all. I know that. She doesn’t want me to screw up my life. She’s always telling me to get good grades and be responsible, but she likes the spotlight a lot. She told me she’d never remarry because she wouldn’t want to give up your last name.”
That sounded like Melissa. When they were married, she was always pushing him to use his name to get them into the fancy clubs, and when he wouldn’t, she would get mad and throw a fit if anyone didn’t know who they were. And then she’d have the nerve to complain he was never home and always on the road and not giving her enough attention. Cash was the only good thing that came out of that relationship.
“Have you had any girlfriends?” That should be information a father had about his son, and the guilt climbed into his chest for not knowing.
“Nah. I would’ve told you that.”
Blaise let a smile tug at his lips. “You’re a good-looking kid. There has to be someone.”
“I was never interested in getting involved. I didn’t trust that they liked me for me.” Cash plopped back down in the chair and downed the rest of his soda. “That’s why I like it here in Heritage River. No one cares who we are. They knew you before you were famous, and they knew Grandpa and Grandma. We’re just regular people in this town, and that’s what I want to be. I don’t want to go back.”
He let Cash’s last words sink in. His son wanted to stay. He might want the anonymity Heritage River offered more than he wanted to spend time with him, but Blaise could live with that. At least Cash wasn’t off and running from him. Maybe in time they could be close.
“Well, you still have to finish the community service hours, and now Beau is depending on you. Plus, school doesn’t start until after Labor Day. You’ll have plenty to keep you busy through your summer stay.”
“No, I mean I don’t want to go back ever. Mom doesn’t know this, but I unenrolled myself from school.”
Melissa was going to freak out. She wanted Cash in school, and honestly, so did Blaise. If Cash didn’t want to follow in his footsteps, he’d need a backup plan. “How did you manage to cancel your registration?”
“I called and said I was you since I’m not eighteen until September. I could do it myself then, but I didn’t want to wait. The rest was all through email.”
“Was there a deposit given?”
Cash smirked. “Yeah, they’re mailing the refund here. It’s your money anyway.”
That was true. Melissa did voice-over work, and that came in spurts. She’d been living off Blaise’s money since the moment she said I do. “I don’t mind that you said you were me, and I admire your creativity, but you can’t go around lying to get out of something you don’t want to do.” Was that the right kind of fatherly thing to say?
“I was hoping I could go to the community college here and stay with you.” Cash looked away again.
“Listen, Cash, I’m glad you want to stay, and you can go to school here, but you need to know I will have to go back on tour when the time comes.” It was Blaise’s turn to look away. “I need the money.”
He explained to Cash about the bad investor and the loss of funds. He told how he was trying to sell his car and how he sold his house in Nashville. “I had to remortgage this house. If I don’t hit the road, I’ll have to see if Beau can hire me too.”
“I understand. I won’t burn the house down.”
Cash handed him the opening to the much-needed conversation. Blaise sat in the chair opposite Cash and looked him in the eye. “Why’d you do it?”
Cash stared at his hands. “It was stupid. I knew it the minute I lit the match, but it was too late then. Tim had dared me. He kept calling me
chicken when I wouldn’t do it. He was the only friend I had. The only person who liked me for me. I was wrong. He said he’d read a story about you and Uncle Colton when you were young and touring in bars and how you’d set the bar on fire because you were so drunk. Tim laughed and said that it had to be cool to have a father like that.”
“Cash, that story—”
“I know. That’s not the true story. But I was mad because I thought you didn’t factor into my friendship and you had all along. Tim liked me because he thought I’d be just like you, and when he thought I wasn’t like that, he said things. I just wanted to be liked. I wanted to show him I could be cool. I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I wasn’t thinking at all. So I did it.” Cash swiped at his face with the heel of his hand.
Blaise didn’t know what to say. He never thought about how it must feel to be his son. His mother had had some fame, but being in an orchestra wasn’t the same as being in a country-rock band whose music played on radio stations everywhere. And he and Colton and Savannah had grown up in the safety of Heritage River, where everyone knew them and his father was the music teacher.
He patted Cash on the shoulder. “I’d be really glad if you’d stay with me.” He wanted to hug Cash, but he wasn’t sure if he should. Did Cash want the affection, or would he push it away?
Cash stood and tossed his soda can in the recycle basket under the sink. “Thanks. Can we ask Mom to send my stuff?”
He had no idea how he was going to tell Melissa that Cash wanted to live with him, but he’d figure something out. “I’ll call her later.”
“I think I’m going to hang in my room. I’m tired after all the work today.” He headed out of the kitchen.
“Hey, Cash, I had an idea.”
Cash turned and smiled. “You’re not going to climb on any more scaffolding, are you?”
“Funny. Would you like to play in Aunt Savannah’s fundraiser with me?”
Cash opened his mouth, then shut it. Blaise’s heart sank. “It’s okay, don’t worry, bad idea.” He grabbed the serving forks and shoved them in the dishwasher.